


Welcome Home, Son

by Watchglass



Category: Cirque du Freak | The Saga of Darren Shan - Darren Shan
Genre: I can't write angst and it's obvious, I'm just rolling with this, Post-Book 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watchglass/pseuds/Watchglass
Summary: Having been invested after closely avoiding execution, Darren comes to grips with life in Vampire Mountain.With the ever growing threat of the War of the Scars he has to learn quickly how to deal not only with helping run the clan, but with his own conflicting emotions.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Damn, first thing I'm ever posting here I guess. I haven't tried to write a longer piece in a while so we will see how this ends up going. Then there is the extreme possibility that I will end up abandoning this entirely but who knows, I might speed through this for all I care.

It had officially been one year since Darren’s investiture, and one year since the incident at Vampire Mountain that sparked a full on war. The War of the Scars was still in its early stages, it only really started becoming a problem a couple of months back. Darren, unfortunately, was stuck in the middle of everything due to being a prince and he very rarely got a break. This however, was one of those rare occasions where he could walk around the tunnels of the mountain and collect his thoughts.

His thoughts were like a minefield, he could be thinking of the times when he couldn’t have been happier, then the weight of everything else would come crashing down on him all at once. That happened a lot, and it tended to hinder his decision making. In those types of situations, Seba would tend to pull him aside and send him out of the room, before going to get one of the other princes. That was one of the main things that aggravated Darren, they treated him like a sick child at times and he hated it. He had been struggling to keep up with his duties and help manage the generals and the after effects of it were starting to show.

He sighed as he traversed the long span of tunnels that resided in the mountain, he knew that he would have to go back soon but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to go back to being treated like a child. He didn’t want to go back to having questions constantly thrown at him by frustrated and confused generals. Just thinking about those things was giving him a headache. He listened to the sound of his steps as they echoed through the long hallway that he was walking through.

That’s when another set of steps joined his.

His survival instincts kicked in almost immediately and he realised how far down he had gone. He was close to where they had found the Vampaneze hiding the year before and that made him panic. What if they had come through there again? It wasn’t likely, but the possibility was there. He stood still, not knowing what direction to start moving in. The steps were growing louder with every passing second and Darren reached for his sword that he kept strapped to his waist at all times. He clutched the sword with trembling hands, looking in the direction of the sound, and seeing the faint shape of a shadow start to form up ahead. A face started to appear out of the shadows and Darren relaxed, letting his hands fall to his sides but being careful not to drop his sword.

“Darren? What are you doing down here? Do you not have duties to be attending to?”

It was Mr Crepsley, Darren’s boss and friend. He must have come down here looking for Seba, or maybe looking for Darren. Darren put his sword back in the case that was strapped to his waist.

“I was just walking around, I guess I went too far down” Darren said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

“It has been over two hours since you left the Hall of Princes Darren, the others were getting worried about your safety” Mr Crepsley explained.

“Oh of course they were,” Darren looked away. “They’re always worried about me, always worried that I’ll mess something up.”

He sighed and pushed his way past Mr Crepsley, not wanting to deal with whatever remark was about to come. Surprisingly, no remark ever came, the only sounds in the tunnels were Darren’s footsteps and Mr Crepsley’s from behind him. He sped up slightly, trying to get back to the halls before Mr Crepsley so he could slip away somewhere else, but he matched Darren’s pace when he realised what he was doing. 

Due to Darren’s quickened pace, it took a lot less time to get back out of the tunnels then to get to where he previously was. Mr Crepsley had not yet come out into the halls so Darren took his chance and started running out and in the direction of his room. Even though it would be the most predictable place for him to be, not many generals would come knocking on his door unless it was a truly urgent situation. However, it probably wouldn’t divert Mr Crepsley, Seba, Harkat, or the other princes.

A thought suddenly struck Darren, he hadn’t seen Harkat all day. Harkat wasn’t in his hammock when he awoke so he had assumed that he’d been helping Seba, but dawn was quickly approaching and there was no sign of him. Darren decided not to think too hard about it, Harkat knew how to take care of himself and he wouldn’t go wandering about without informing Darren beforehand.

Darren climbed into his hammock and stared at the ceiling. All he knew at this point were the dull confines of the mountain, which contrasted the bright colours of the Cirque where he used to live. He really did miss the Cirque, performing was something that he had grown to love, no matter how much he still hated Madam Octa. Then there were all the friends he had there, Evra in particular, he’d told them that he wouldn’t be gone for a long time. He wanted to go back there, back to when things weren’t so complicated and the biggest thing he had to worry about was not messing up a performance.

“Tá mé chomh tuirseach de seo.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Now that he was laying comfortably in his hammock, it had made him aware of how tired he actually was. He tended to stay awake for a lot longer then he should most nights, but tonight he decided that he was going to get as much sleep as time would allow him. Rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, he held a subconscious hand out to sleep and let it pull him away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A new chapter already? Damn, I'm getting way too invested in this.

Darren awoke to pounding on his door that startled him so much that he nearly fell out of his hammock.

“Cad é an ifreann?” He said to himself before climbing down from the hammock and dragging himself to the door, still half asleep.

He opened the door, yawning and rubbing the remains of sleep from his eyes, before focusing on who was there. It was Mr Crepsley and he didn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong? Why were you banging on my door like that?” Darren said, leaning against the open door.

“Darren, one of the generals has returned and is saying that he needs to talk to the princes, I came to collect you but you were not answering the door so I had to use more force.” Mr Crepsley had his arms folded.

“Oh um, sorry, I was asleep, let me just,” he paused for a second, realising that he had fallen asleep in his normal clothes “I guess I don’t need to go and get ready.”

Darren proceeded to slip past Mr Crepsley and head in the direction of the Hall of Princes, preparing himself for whatever was about to be said. He’d started to expect the worst whenever a general returned and it had already saved him a great deal of tears. Back at the start of the war, he tended to cry whenever someone came back with bad news but he’d started to become embarrassed whenever he did. In his eyes, it just made the others treat him more like a child then ever, always asking if he was okay in a more hushed tone then normal.

As he put his hand on the entrance to the hall to open it, he nodded a silent hello to the guards that were there, before walking in. He felt the atmosphere change as soon as he crossed the threshold and knew that whatever this general had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“You didn’t have to wait for me you know? I could’ve caught up on what I’d missed.” Darren crossed one of his legs over the other and leaned on his arm.

“You are a fellow prince Darren, we could not start without you being present,” Paris exclaimed before looking at the visibly distressed general “You said that you had something to discuss with us, did you not?.” 

“Yes sire, as you know I was sent off with a team of six others to hunt a group of Vampaneze that were killing our own. I don’t feel the need to tell you every little detail of what we went through but,” the general paused for a mere moment before continuing on, “I am currently the only known survivor of the team who has made it back. We got ambushed and we were unprepared for the attack. It was a foolish move to let our guard down but we all needed a break. I don’t know how I made it out of there without getting my throat slit and a stake through the heart but I did.”

Darren felt a familiar lump form in his throat, but forced the emotions away before anything started. They had received many other reports similar to this one lately and it was worrying him. Whenever word reached him that a Vampaneze had killed one of the clan, it sent him back to when he faced the crazed Murlough and he hated thinking about that.

There was only silence in the hall, no one was saying everything. They were either thinking, or trying to process what had been said. An incident like this was never something that was taken or handled lightly. Five more vampires have lost their lives because of the Vampaneze, in what seemed to be a relatively avoidable attack. Darren put his head in his lap, blinking back the few tears that pricked at his eyes.

Time passed, the general was excused, and the princes were still sitting there. Darren lifted his head up out of his lap and, seeing that the others were clearly not going to start talking anytime soon, stood up and walked out. He decided to go to the Hall of Khledon Lurt to get something strong to drink. He was technically still underage, but he needed to take his mind off of things and ale was always a good solution for that.

As Darren sat there, head in his palm, drinking his second round of ale, he saw someone place themself down in the seat next to him. He didn’t move, he didn’t want to pay the person any attention, but then they spoke and his head snapped up.

“It is not like you to sit around and drink like this Darren”

When his eyes finally came into focus, he saw Seba sitting there. He was smiling but you could see the traces of concern strewn across his face. Darren wanted to reply but he was feeling choked up again and he knew that if he tried to say anything, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears anymore. Everything would’ve been fine and he would’ve just pushed away the emotions again but Seba rested a hand on Darren’s back and it set him off.

“I’m so damn stressed Seba I-” Darren was a mess of sobs and slurred words. “I never thought being a prince would be this stressful but here we are.” 

“Your investiture came in a troubling time for us and you have been thrown into the middle of a war, no one is going to be angry at you for being stressed. The life of a prince was not one made for a boy of your age, I am sure that no one expects you to be on top of everything all of the time Darren.”

Darren was laying on the table, head in his arms. He was visibly shaking and he hoped that Seba was the only one who would witness him in this state.

“Uaireanta is mian liom go ndearna siad forghníomhú orm.” Darren whispered to himself.

Inside, he knew that he didn’t mean that, he was incredibly grateful that they didn’t do that to him, but whenever he got in this low of a state, that fate seemed more appealing to him. As he laid there and sobbed, he heard a rushed pair of footsteps enter the hall.

“What is going on? Seba, why is Darren like that?”

He never knew why Mr Crepsley’s presence made him feel like this, but it was another thing that he hated. A part of him thought that it was because Mr Creplsey was still his boss and it wasn’t an ideal situation to see your assistant being a crying mess. Another part of him thought that it was because of their personal relationship, he saw Mr Crepsley as a father of sorts and he thought that fathers weren’t supposed to see their sons cry.

Darren sat up and quickly drank the rest of his drink, before wiping his eyes with his sleeve, forcing himself to stop crying. He turned his gaze to Mr Crepsley once he was sure that he wasn’t going to continue with the hysterics and gave him a small smile.

“I’m okay Mr Crepsley, I um,” He was quite clearly not in a sound state of mind and anyone could see it. He’d never been good at holding his alcohol, he chalked it up to not being used to the stuff.

Mr Crepsley walked over to him and put an arm round him, pulling him up into a standing position.

“I think that we should get you back to your room, judging by the way you are holding yourself, you will be complaining to me about a headache whenever you wake up,” he chuckled slightly, which was a rare occurrence for him.

Darren just nodded and let Mr Crepsley guide him to his room, before he collapsed into his hammock and went out like a light. Mr Creplsey remained in the doorway for a short while. He was worried about the young prince. Breakdowns like this had become common and he was struggling to find a way to help Darren. He let out a sigh and began to close the door.

“Codladh go maith Darren.” He said softly, before closing the door and walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow um, that was surely something. I wanted to write something more interesting then last time but I didn't realise I was gonna go quite so sad. I'm really enjoying writing this and I hope that you are enjoying reading this. I also snuck in a little headcannon there of how I like to think that Darren taught Mr Crepsley some phrases in Gaelic :) 
> 
> Translations:  
> Cad é an ifreann? = What the hell?  
> Uaireanta is mian liom go ndearna siad forghníomhú orm = Sometimes I wish that they had executed me  
> Codladh go maith = Sleep well


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think that the fact that I'm posting this chapter at 12:09am really adds to this hfhf.  
> On a more serious note, it took me a little longer to get this chapter out because I'm not good at writing character relationships (and it's clear).

Darren awoke the next evening to banging in his head and ringing in his ears.

“Note to self, learn how to cope with alcohol,” he groaned as he pulled himself out of his hammock.

Not many memories of the previous night had stuck with him, however, he vaguely remembered parts of the breakdown he had. He mentally facepalmed, knowing that people were going to start digging into his business now, with any luck he would be able to convince them to drop the subject. As he stood, his head felt like it was having knives shoved into it from every point possible. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and raised his left hand to his head and held it.

Darren trudged his way to his door, then out into the hallways with no real knowledge of where he was going to go, he just needed to walk off this hangover. While he was walking, he passed many generals, nearly all of them shared the same expression of pain and grief. Many peoples faces had that expression permanently stamped on their face. It seemed to be one of the only expressions that people were showing. In a state like this, Darren couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, he only cared about getting his head to stop with the constant pain it was putting him through.

“Man, you look like you had quite a night.” A voice came from up ahead and a large figure came into view.

“Judging by the way you’re holding your head I will assume you’re having a major hangover.”

The figure, who Darren managed to work out by the voice was Arrow, continued to walk towards him, despite him waving his hand at Arrow, signalling for him to leave him be. Arrow gave a short laugh towards Darren’s actions before stopping him by standing in his way.

“There’s no waving me away kid, Larten asked me to come and find you, he wants to see you by the River of Final Voyage, not sure why he would want to meet you there but that’s just what he asked me to tell you.”

Suddenly, he grabbed Darren, got him into a headlock and started rubbing his fist on Darren’s head. This was a sort of ritual parting gesture they had. Of course, Darren had no say in this gesture as he was the one who was being submitted to it.

“Éirigh as dom!” Darren shouted as he clawed at Arrow’s arms, trying to get him to release him but he had no hope in getting the man to release him of his own accord.

Arrow laughed some more as he removed his arm from around Darren,

“You know that I don’t understand that language you speak, but I know when to stop. See you around Darren.”

He started to walk away from the young boy but then turned around and said,

“Oh yeah, good luck with that hangover.” Then he continued walking and was soon out of sight.

Darren stood there for a few minutes longer, rubbing his head. Steve used to do that to him a lot but that was when he actually had hair, now all he had was bare skin and he had quickly discovered that it hurt a lot more without hair. He sighed, then set off in the direction of the river, wondering why on earth Mr Crepsley would want to meet him in that awful place.

He recalled the last time that he had visited the River of Final Voyage. It had been a short visit, that had ended with him giving himself to the rapids that raged through the river path. It was a memory that he especially hated as the image of Kurda’s face during those moments was etched into his brain. The subject of Kurda was also one that he strived to avoid, he had been one of Darren’s best friends here when he had first arrived and had done a lot for him over the course of their short acquaintance.

Darren had never truly forgiven Kurda for what he did to Gavner, another one of his friends here, or for betraying the clan, but a part of his brain felt guilty for what had become of the young, to-be prince. At the end of the day, Darren was the one who had told everyone the truth about Kurda, which had led to his execution. He shook his head, sending the memories away as he approached the entrance to the river. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the doors and saw Mr Crepsley sat down, far away enough from the river’s edge to be safe but close enough to make Darren uncomfortable.

Mr Creplsey seemed to sense Darren’s unease and stood up, moving back at the same time. 

“Thank you for coming Darren, I wanted to speak with you and I did not think we would be disturbed here.”

“Could you not have just come to my room, or we could’ve met in the Hall of Kheldon Lurt, you know how I feel about this place.” Darren was staring at the point where the river sat outside of the mountain walls, not wanting to look at Mr Crepsley.

“I do know your feelings towards this particular part of the mountain and I apologise for making you come here again but I need to speak to you.” Mr Creplsey stopped and waited for a reply from Darren, all he got back was a shrug, so he continued.

“I am concerned for you Darren, we both know what happened last night and as someone who cares about your wellbeing I need to know if there is something truly wrong. I do not properly understand how a mind as young as yours works as it has been many years since I was a boy but I know that a breakdown of that stature is not supposed to be a normal occurrence.”

Darren sighed, he knew that this conversation would come eventually, but he never really figured out what to say. He just stood there for a moment, trying to find the words somewhere in his head.

“I’m just stressed out of my mind Mr Crepsley. Everyone expects so damn much from me because I’m a prince and I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders right now.” Darren walked over to Mr Creplsey’s side after finishing his sentence. After making sure that he was a reasonable way away from the river's edge, he flopped down onto the floor and brought his knees up into his chest.

Mr Crepsley sat himself down by Darren’s side and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I am not well versed in what you are going through but,” he paused for a second, “I care about you and I will help you in whatever way I can. At this point in time, I see you more as a son then an assistant and I hope that you know that. Your investiture definitely came at an inconvenient time and the War of the Scars is becoming a bigger threat than anyone expected but I have seen you get through a lot Darren. I, of all people, know that you can help guide the clan through these times.”

Darren looked up at Mr Crepsley, tears pricking his eyes once again.

“You really think that?” 

“I do not just think it Darren, I know it.”

With those final words, Darren pulled Mr Crepsley into a tight hug and wept into his shoulder. It had been a while since they had hugged like this, Darren had been pushing so many people away recently, leaving himself to deal with his sorrow.

The hug had caught Mr Crepsley off guard for a moment but then he put his arms around Darren and hugged him back, a single tear rolled down his cheek. He and Darren had both lost many people over the years. Friends, family, brothers. As they sat there, locked in a hug that could only come from a father-son relationship like theirs, he could’ve sworn that he heard Darren mumble one of the phrases that he had previously taught him.

“Is breá liom tú, a athair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Soooooooo, that was quite the chapter to write. I'm a big fan of Darren and Larten's relationship and I love to portray that and I hope that I did it justice.
> 
> Translation:  
> Is breá liom tú, a athair = I love you, father (dad)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aaaaand I'm back again with another chapter. My brain really didn't want to cooperate with me on this one so it's pretty scattered, my apologies haha.

A week had passed since Darren and Mr Crepsley had had their conversation. They had been there for another ten minutes before they had parted ways. Harkat had recently showed up again but when Darren asked him where he had been, he would just shake his head and not answer. That made Darren slightly suspicious about what the little person had been doing over the week that he hadn’t seen him, but he decided not to dwell on the subject too much.

Darren’s mental health was still going through a rough patch. He wasn’t as bad as he was when he had the breakdown the week prior but he still wasn’t doing great. The War of the Scars was getting worse by the day and Darren was having more and more shoved onto his plate. He couldn’t stop wondering about this rumored ‘Lord of the Vampaneze’... did they really exist? Or were the Vampaneze just using this as an excuse for war?

He had been told that Vampaneze didn't tend to lie, and that some of them were gunning to stop the war as much as the clan were but Darren didn’t know how he felt about that. After what happened with Murlough, he didn’t trust the other creatures of the night very much. Just talking about them brought him back to when he had to let himself be kidnapped by the crazed murderer, putting himself at risk of death. Not that the risk of death scared him much anymore, he’d seen it a lot now.

He’d faced two sets of Trials of Initiation, which are dangerous enough, then there was his showdown with the Wolfman. Danger was becoming his new normal and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was kind of learning to enjoy it. He would still occasionally train with Vanez, who was still sharp as ever, even though he was now fully blind and on even rarer occasions he would spar with someone, but other than that, he was confined to the Hall of Princes for the majority of the time.

As he swayed back and forth in his hammock, a small knock came from the other side of the door.

“Darren, may I come in?” A voice called out.

“Yeah, the door’s open” Darren called back.

A figure came into the room and took a seat on the hammock across from Darren.

“Is something wrong Seba? You don’t come by here that often.” Darren raised a questioning eyebrow and moved into a cross-legged position.

“Nothing is wrong, no, I just wanted to check on you as I have not had the chance.” Seba had his hands resting on his lap.

“As much as I appreciate the concern, I really don’t want to talk about that right now. I’ve got… other things to think about.”

Darren looked down at the floor, not wanting to end up losing control of his emotions again, especially after he’d finally been getting better at handling them.

“Okay, if you do not wish to speak about it, I will not push the subject,” Seba seemed to prepare himself to get up, but then went back to his original position, “However, there is something, well someone, that I would also like to talk to you about.”

Darren lifted his head up to face Seba, now intrigued by what he had to say.

“Now, I know that Larten has most likely not opened up an awful lot about his past to you. He does not tend to talk to people about the things he endured all those years ago but it’s not Larten I want to talk to you about, it’s,” there was a slight pause in his words, “I want to talk to you about one of my previous assistants, one who worked alongside Larten.”

Darren didn’t say anything but his mind was already in overdrive. He had heard Mr Crepsley make subtle references to this supposed person before, but that’s all he ever got. No name. No information. Nothing.

“His name was Wester Flack, Larten had met him when he’d gone into a village. The boy had lost his family in a Vampaneze attack and it left him with a grudge so strong that no one could make him let go of it.”

Seba went to continue what he was saying, but Darren chimed up before he could.

“Who was the Vampaneze that attacked them?”

Seba’s face contorted into a more stern expression and Darren regretting asking the question.

“Murlough.”

Darren’s breath hitched in his throat when the name was said. It was the first time that he’d heard the name said out loud and not in his own thoughts in a long time. Chills spread up and down his spine, he shook them away and nodded at Seba, signalling for him to continue what he was saying before.

“I do not want to go into too much detail about him for multiple reasons, but I wanted to tell you that I can see parts of him shine through in you Darren, and that makes me both happy and worried. Wester let his personal issues cloud his judgement and given that you are a prince, I do not want you to fall down that path.”

Darren didn’t know what to say. When Seba had said that last sentence, he had looked straight at him and his gaze never faltered. Even though he had not said much, Darren could tell that Wester had done something that had upset either him, Mr Crepsley, or both. He was tempted to pry into it more, but Seba got up from where he was and headed towards the door again.

“One last thing before I leave, please keep this conversation between us two. As I said earlier, Larten doesn’t like people knowing about his past and I think he wants to keep you as far away from it as he can,” and with those final words, Seba left, closing the door behind him.

Darren stared at the door for around five minutes, trying to wrap his head around the information he just got thrown at him. If he and Wester really were as alike as Seba is implying, and if that was also as bad as he made it out to be, surely Mr Crepsley would’ve spoken to him about it by now? He knew that Seba wouldn’t have told him this if it wasn’t truly bothering him, given what he said about how Mr Crepsley feels about his past.

 _"You should go and talk to Mr Crepsley about this..."_

His thoughts narrated themselves inside his head, seemingly waiting for him to verbally reply to them.

“You, well I, heard what Seba said, Mr Crepsley would probably go nuts if he found out that I knew about this.”

Darren decided to lay down, it tended to help himself think.

_“Yes, but you also saw how serious Seba was about not wanting you to go down the same path as this Wester guy. He clearly did something pretty bad and I think that that’s information worth getting, even if it means getting scolded.”_

“Don’t you think that I would know about it if it was truly that bad? I am a prince after all.”

_“Just because you’re a prince, that doesn’t mean you’re automatically entitled to all the clan’s history. This incident seems to be something personal anyway, I don’t think anyone is gonna know about it other than Crepsley and Seba.”_

“Yeah, and they’re the two people who are least likely to tell me about it.”

Darren sighed, he really wanted to know more about Wester and what he did, but he also knew that trying to get information about him was a near impossible task. He was once again being left in the dark by everyone,

And that was when the frustration set in.

“For once can people stop being so damn cryptic and just tell me what they mean! Like, how am I supposed to avoid turning out like someone who I know next to nothing about!”

He was up on his feet by this point and was pacing up and down his room, hands flailing around as he shouted. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, if anything, he wanted people to hear him. Maybe someone would actually listen to him if they heard him shouting like this.

The tears eventually came again, he had been expecting them for a while now and he was almost relieved when the first one escaped his eye and rolled down his red cheek.

“Is fuath liom an áit seo!”

He dropped onto his knees and punched the floor. He was fully aware of how stupid he looked doing this but he didn’t care. He was done. He had reached his final thread of patience. This place had broken him down to nothing and thinking about it made his heart shatter even more. He was sure that he was gonna break at least one of his hands at this rate but he continued anyway.

“Lig mé as seo, le do thoil!”

Darren could hear the bones in his left hand finally give way and break and he proceeded to let out a roar of pain but he was still punching with his other hand and he intended to continue until that one broke as well.

Then, before he could even process what was happening, someone burst into his room and lifted him up off of the floor and started carrying him out of the room. He kicked and thrashed in the person’s arms, trying to free himself but he had drained himself of nearly all his energy, so it was utterly useless. He eventually stopped fighting the person’s grip and the adrenaline started to leave him, which made the pain in his left hand become a lot more prominent.

He eventually came to the realisation that his eyes had been closed the entire time, mainly because he didn’t want to know who had scooped him up like some kind of three year old, but when he opened them he was hit with quite an unexpected sight.

“Mika?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sooooooo, is it clear that I've been in a weird emotional state recently? I really didn't plan for things to go south with Darren like that at the end but that's what my brain said to do jsdvje
> 
> Translations:  
> Is fuath liom an áit seo = I hate this place  
> Lig mé as seo, le do thoil = Let me out of here, please


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm back with another chapter! I'm sorry for this taking so long, I've been struggling to write anything hah.

Mika had said nothing the whole time they were walking, well, he was walking, Darren was still being carried. Eventually, they reached their destination, which just so happened to be the Hall of Princes aka the last place that Darren wanted to be in those moments. Paris, Arrow, Larten and Seba were all there, watching him with concerned expressions that made him go red. The pain in his hand was reaching unbearable levels by now and he wondered how much damage he had truly caused thanks to his fit of rage. Mika practically dropped him onto his throne (which he had only got a couple of months before) and then went back to his own. Darren cradled his hand, which he had accidentally leant on when he’d been put down.

The silence in the room was unbearable and you could cut the tension with a knife, or a nail for that matter. No one wanted to start the conversation even though it was inevitable. They were all here and they all somehow knew what had happened. Darren didn’t think that his screaming had been loud enough for everyone to hear, but this was blatant proof that it was. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. That was when Mr Crepsley knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder, about to break the crippling silence.

“Darren, would you care to explain what all of that screaming earlier was about?” He spoke in a hushed tone, trying to avoid upsetting the young prince anymore.

What Darren wanted to say was, _“Well, no, not exactly Mr Crepsley, now can I just go back to my room and forget about this?”_ but instead, he just shook his head.

“I told you all that he wouldn’t answer your questions, he clearly doesn’t want to speak about it so how about we just leave the kid alone?” Mika piped up, arms folded and his regular unfussed expression plastered on his face.

Mr Crepsley’s head turned sharply to face Mika, “With all due respect Sire Ver Leth, I would quite like to learn what happened to make Darren feel the need to break his hand.”

“I was going to ask about that, his hand sure looks a bit fucked up to me.” Arrow commented bluntly.

Darren listened to the others bicker, thoughts racing. The pain in his hand was really flaring up by now and he winced a lot. He could feel a headache coming on, which added to his discomfort. Getting out of the room was all he could focus on. He wanted to just sprint out of hide until everyone forgot about the situation, but he knew that that isn’t something that would happen.

“Níl mórán mór ann i ndáiríre.” Darren whispered under his breath, even though he knew that the others would hear him.

Paris turned to look at him, finally breaking his silence. “What was that? I am not very well versed in that language and would appreciate a translation.”

Darren sighed, and decided to finally speak up about everything. “I said that it’s not that big of a deal, I broke my hand while punching the floor after I had a slight breakdown. It’s not like you all _genuinely care_ about my health or anything, you just want an excuse to coop me up in a room and embarrass me.”

Darren didn’t necessarily mean to say that, it just ended up slipping out. He was frustrated, tired, in pain and he just wanted to hit something again.

“That is in no way what we want to do, Darren. I do not know where you got that idea from, but it is not the truth of the matter. You don’t seem to comprehend how serious breaking your own hand is. We are _worried_ about you. This seems to keep happening and none of us want to see you like this.” Seba also started to speak with the same hushed tone that Mr Crepsley had spoken in earlier.

“Seba is right, Darren. I am startled by the fact that the thought of us wanting to embarrass you even crossed your mind.” Mr Crepsley chimed up again.

Darren rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah… keep saying what you want. I honestly don’t care. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will be taking my leave. If you truly mean what you’ve said, you won’t follow me.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer from anyone, he just got up and walked out, not turning back to look at the people he’d just left. A part of him told him to turn back, to go and spill his guts to them and maybe that would make him feel better but he ignored it. He just trudged off to his normal tunnel route, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible. If that meant going as far as leaving the mountain for a bit, he would leave but he wasn’t too keen on that idea.

 _“Wow, you really just walked out of there. Do you really think that was a good idea?”_ The inner voice was back, well, at least Darren was alone and could talk back.

“I didn’t see you coming up with any other bright ideas to get me out of there, I didn’t want to sit around and get lectured by people who barely know anything about what I’m dealing with right now.” Darren retorted as he continued to go deeper into the tunnels.

_“You do realise that one of them is going to come looking for you and you’re probably in deep trouble for what you did.”_

“Okay, are you just going to antagonize me or are you going to say something that is actually helpful?”

_“I’m not trying to be helpful nor am I trying to antagonize you. I’m merely stating the situation you’re in and trying to keep you from getting yourself on more people’s bad sides.”_

Darren sighed. “Yeah whatever, I don’t think the world likes me being on people’s ‘good sides’ so I think trying to do what you’re doing is completely pointless.”

_“Maybe it is pointless, maybe it isn’t. Just remember that we, by definition, are the same person, just one of us is a little more open to the vampire ways then the other.”_

“Do we really need to have this conversation now? I’m just trying to walk. I don’t want to go into this subject right now.”

_“Well we need to address it at some point. We both know that you still desperately cling to those threads of humanity you have left. You need to suck it up and let go. There’s absolutely no reason for you to still be acting like you’re human, Darren.”_

Darren went to protest the voice, but stopped himself. He knew that what was being was the truth. He didn’t want to let go of the small things that tied him back to his old life. Even after all this time had passed, he still had the glimmer of hope in his mind that he would be able to go back to normal one day. He knew that that was utter nonsense, but it was the only thought that was keeping him sane through all of this. 

_“You do realise that I know what you’re thinking, right? Well, if you didn’t, you do now. Anyway, I’m serious, Darren. You need to move on with your life or you’ll end up dying… and I don’t care if that sounds extreme, we both know what happened last time you tried to deny what you are.”_

Darren felt a pang of guilt in his chest, he hated talking about the time when he’d first lived at the Cirque and what had transpired there. It made him tense up as he walked, knowing that he still carried part of the person who he had been too weak to save around with him.

“You didn’t have to go there. I know what I am and I’m not trying to deny it. I just- I just want to keep this one bit of hope okay? Is it a crime to want my old life back? I was happy with that life, I didn’t want or ask to become this.” His voice had a bitter tone, like he was directing that last sentence at someone who wasn’t the voice that echoed in his head.

_“I never said that you have to completely disregard your old life, I’m just saying that it would be better for both of us if you just accepted your new life.”_

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, just- just shut up and go away so I can have some peace and quiet for once.”

 _“Alright, no need to get feisty, I’ll leave you be. Just remember that I’ll always be here, either in the back of your mind like I am now or eventually running the show.”_ The voice faded out, leaving Darren in silence as he had stopped walking a few moments ago.

Darren just stood where he was, staring at the tunnel ahead of him. He wanted to keep walking but he couldn’t, something stopped him. He ended up sitting down where he was, crossing his legs and putting his head in his hands.

“How long am _I_ going to be the person calling the shots? What if I end up being like everyone else? I don’t want to be someone who senselessly fights and resigns themself to death if they show the slightest bit of weakness…”

He sighed again, before closing his eyes and letting his thoughts take over. At this rate, he was going to fall asleep where he was, and that’s exactly what happened. He curled up in the dark, dirty tunnel that he was in and dozed off, finally free from the crushing doubt and guilt that his mind was presenting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This probably isn't one of my best works, but I'm ill at the moment and I needed to get this chapter out asap.
> 
> Translation: Níl mórán mór ann i ndáiríre = It's really not a big deal

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: And there you have it. Chapter one of this soon to be trainwreck. I know that nothing really happened there but I promise that I'll try to make chapter two more interesting.
> 
> Translation: Tá mé chomh tuirseach de seo = I am so tired of this


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